In which We were Drunk
by Sufferer's Descendant
Summary: Dirk Strider/Roxy Lalonde Slight Jake English/Jane Crocker


Stirring from a dreamless slumber, scarlet eyes opened to stare up at the white ceiling of his room. His vision was blurry, his body still weighed down with the press of slumber's hold. A pale hand reached out to snatch up the waiting shades, sliding them into their usual place.

Stretching, Dirk Strider attempted to twist and roll his way out of bed but that was nigh impossible due to the fact that he was not the only one in his bed. He tensed immediately, becoming suddenly aware of the form that was tangled with his own. What exactly had gone on last night?  
He gritted his teeth as the hangover he had made itself known, he knew he had gotten drunk off his arse but this was something else...  
Surely he would've remembered taking someone to bed, wouldn't he?

Shifting his gaze to look upon who had their body pressed up against his, he paled slightly at the sight of who was pressed up against him. He could appreciate the view, at least but damn it.

He hadn't been that drunk, had he?  
Apparently so. He could ask his AR but he didn't even want to know whether that program witnessed his drunken state. If it had, well he was fucked. Though he could just delete that memory out of it's system so that he was off the hook but the opposite party might remember and they would know something was up if they woke up now.

Sighing, he untangled himself from the other's body and brought the blankets up over them while he sought out a pair of clean boxers and his jeans before he proceeded to walk through his pad. If there were any damage done to his home, he would notice though nothing seemed too out of place.

A few scattered game cases on the floor, controllers, and remotes on the living room floor. Nothing in too much disarray there. He walked to his kitchen, finding all sorts of empty bottles of alcohol. Vodka, Gin, Margarita mix, and quite a few other bottles that he didn't even want to have a look at. There were several shotglasses sitting on the counter, along with a number of other glasses.

Each of the glasses had a different colored ring in the bottom, there was salt on the counters and some on the floor. Sighing, he proceeded to clean up and wash all of the glasses that had been used. Not having a dishwasher had it's disadvantages but he could manage just fine washing them by hand, he worked in silence with only his thoughts to distract him.

Now that he thought about it...he noticed that one of his couches had been occupied, there couldn't have been this many glasses with just two people. No, it wasn't just himself and his bed-guest but two others as well. He hadn't seen signs of scattered clothes though, maybe those two hadn't gotten very far before passing out.  
Light-weights...

Dirk snorted, setting the last glass aside before draining the water from the sink.

With the dishes from last night clean, Dirk proceeded to rummage through his fridge to start up breakfast. He might as well, since he was the first one up.  
He pulled out bacon, eggs, and cheese from the fridge. He collected potatoes from a container that was hidden away from the sun in one of the lower cabinets, proceeding to slice everything as needed before pulling out a pan to cook it all in.

While it cooked, Dirk fixed himself a glass of water and dug up some aspirin to relieve the pounding of his head. He cleaned up the mess he made from cutting up the potatoes and bacon into small cubes.

It wasn't too much longer before the smells of breakfast began to rouse the other occupants of the house, a startled...two startled cries sounding from the living room along with a heavy thud.  
Dirk figured the pair on the sofa was now awake and startled from the closeness of proximity of one another, they should be untangling themselves and straightening their clothes right about now. Whatever clothes were discarded would be gathered up and they'd attempt to fix their disheveled appearance, he suppose he should covered up at least but it was his house and there was no way in hell that he was going to cover up his frame because of possible bite or claw marks.

His body hurt, yes but it wasn't anything that he couldn't take and keep quiet about. His back burned like a mother fucker, but it wasn't anything he'd be concerned about.

With a sigh, he pulled out a pack of smokes from a drawer nearby and lit one up. He stayed near the sink and the window, leaning against the counter. He didn't move when the pair from the living room arrived, embarrassed to a degree but Dirk acted as if he hadn't even seen anything.

His gaze slid over to them, his husky tone voicing a question with a slight drawl. "Sleep good?" he questioned, noting at how they were staring at his scuffed up body. He resisted the urge to run a hand over his body to find out just how bad he'd been maimed the night before, it wasn't worth the energy to pull of such a self-conscious action in front of anyone. Least of all, these two.

They'd razz him about it later on if he did, he knew all to well. English would especially if he sensed any sort of weakness. He glanced up when he noticed the sound of the last of their group shuffle from his room, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of sweat pants he kept around for when he didn't feel like wearing his jeans.

He had to fight back a low whistle, even in his clothes. She still looked good, though he'd be damned before he would admit it. He finished his smoke and dropped it in the sink for the moment, it would go out soon enough due to the left over water. He cleaned his hands and served up breakfast, handing each a plate and a fork. He kept to himself, keeping his distance from the girl he ended up in bed with though it was a futile effort. She moved to his side, sitting on the counter next to him and ate in silence as her thigh pressed up against his arm.

It was an effort not to slide his hand over the fabric that rubbed against his arm.  
His attraction to her was clear, at least to him though he did his best to cover it up. He finished eating and turned to face the sink, washing up his dish. If cleaning was his only distraction, then his place would be spotless before too long at this rate.

As long as she was near, Dirk Strider did not think that he'd ever get enough of one Roxy Lalonde. Hell, he was tempted to stop what he was doing now and carry her back to his room where he wanted to take his time savoring her body until she begged for mercy.

He could feel a trickle of sweat slide down his back, it's scarred state was now exposed to the other three in the room. He could picture English and Crocker gaping at his fresh scars, trying to ignore it while they stuffed their faces. He'd have to get a shirt to cover them up, just to get those two to stop gaping.

He glanced over at Roxy, she didn't seem to be too perturbed by them though she had been the one to make them. She only set her plate in the sink for him to clean, her dainty hand caressing his cheek as she thanked him for breakfast and slid away. Damn, that alone weakened his resolve though he had to stay strong and resist his desire for her.

He finished up the dishes when Jake and Jane put their plates next to the sink for him to clean, setting them aside on a drying rack with the dishes.

He disappeared shortly after that, pulling out a black long-sleeved shirt from his closet and pulled it on. This would keep them from gawking, he hoped. It was nice because it covered up the marks on his neck as well as his back, though he normally wouldn't wear something like this. It was perfect should his scars start bleeding, though the shirt would definitely stick to his back if they did.

For the time being though, he wouldn't think about Roxy Lalonde. Even as he gathered up the scattered clothes from his room to wash them. He told himself over and over that he wouldn't, even with her so close, he wouldn't think about her writhing beneath him as he explored her lush curves.

His body would betray him sooner or later, but he would resist it to the best of his ability. He threw the clothes into the washer before choosing to distract him by getting onto his computer to boot up a game that was sure to distract him. It did every time, whether he knew it or not. He hoped it wouldn't fail him this time...

Though that hope was lost as he felt the press of a soft body against his back, arms going around his neck, and the scent of perfume that filled the air.  
If she kept this up..she would break his resolve...and he had the feeling that was her plan.

If he gave in, he would be lost in his desire for her.

Lost to her and her alone... 


End file.
